Himura Kenshin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
katananokokoro) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
gumi_reloaded2012-04-19 12:42 am
katananokokoro) wrote in gumi_reloaded2012-04-19 12:42 am
What we do in the beginning
Date: February 7th, 2060
Time: Early morning-mid afternoon
Place: Kenshin's safehouse, New Meiji Lower Districts
Characters: Kenshin, Megumi, Saitoh
The road went on. Snow crunched under his feet, chilling them. Icy fingers slid along his arms, trickled down the back of his neck. He couldn't stop walking. Weary. Bent. His sword leaving red trails on the snow, red petals in the air.
You did this
Aa
He tripped and nearly fell. The snow jabbed at his hand like needles. A mouthful clutched in his palm, pressed in his mouth to hide his breath, but it was hot. It was all hot and cold at the same time and he was looking...Searching... No... Following. Just ahead. There she was. The woman with the long black hair. He wanted to reach for her. Wanted to step away. His hands... they weren't meant to touch. They were only meant to kill. She turned slightly as if she had heard his step, paused and he could see a cell phone pressed to her ear.
"You can't stay out here," he told her. "It's dangerous."
"I have to. Hello? Hello?!" Her voice rose in desperation. "Is he hurt?" And then she pinned him with wide dark eyes. "I'm looking for Sa-chan."
No. No! The darkness snapped around them. Just the two of them. The snow.
"Sa-chan. I'm looking for Sa-chan!"
"No, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"Sa-chan!"
Time: Early morning-mid afternoon
Place: Kenshin's safehouse, New Meiji Lower Districts
Characters: Kenshin, Megumi, Saitoh
The road went on. Snow crunched under his feet, chilling them. Icy fingers slid along his arms, trickled down the back of his neck. He couldn't stop walking. Weary. Bent. His sword leaving red trails on the snow, red petals in the air.
You did this
Aa
He tripped and nearly fell. The snow jabbed at his hand like needles. A mouthful clutched in his palm, pressed in his mouth to hide his breath, but it was hot. It was all hot and cold at the same time and he was looking...Searching... No... Following. Just ahead. There she was. The woman with the long black hair. He wanted to reach for her. Wanted to step away. His hands... they weren't meant to touch. They were only meant to kill. She turned slightly as if she had heard his step, paused and he could see a cell phone pressed to her ear.
"You can't stay out here," he told her. "It's dangerous."
"I have to. Hello? Hello?!" Her voice rose in desperation. "Is he hurt?" And then she pinned him with wide dark eyes. "I'm looking for Sa-chan."
No. No! The darkness snapped around them. Just the two of them. The snow.
"Sa-chan. I'm looking for Sa-chan!"
"No, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"Sa-chan!"
no subject
Megumi.
God.
Kenshin pushed a hand through his hair. His phone started to buzz, rattling against the concrete. He picked it up so that it wouldn't wake her and carefully stood. His shoulder aching, still hot, but he was healing. That was good.
He made sure the comforter was securley tucked around her before feeling his way to the janitor's closet. It was even darker in here. Colder. The water was dripping and he could just make out the barest outline of the sink. The phone buzzed in his hand and he flicked it open and then realized with a horrid, sinking feeling that it wasn't his. A text message from Hiroko waited.
Whoever has this. My brother is dead.
Kenshin shut the phone and slammed it to the floor, hearing it clatter away into the darkness and buzz again, weakly, a dying thing. He wanted to crush it. (Like you do everything else?) Kenshin punched the wall then twisted on the freezing water, splashing his face, feeling the icy fingers trail down his neck.
(You made the blood rain fall)
"I know," he murmured, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. "Shut up!"
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She inhaled, then exhaled quickly as icy air filled her lungs. It was freezing in the storage room and she burrowed down beneath the body warmed comforter, desperately trying to stay warm. Kenshin was gone, she reached over to where he’ been sleeping and felt the warmth of where he’d laid already starting to fade, to disappear. Megumi looked around, but it was too dark to see, so she listened instead.
There was a clatter. She squinted into the darkness, trying to see where he might be. A very faint buzzing sound followed. It sounded like a phone or tablet going off. (Perhaps he got a phone call?) Megumi thought, still a little drowsy.
“I know. Shut up!”
Apparently the call was not of the most positive variety. Megumi pulled the edge of the blankets up around her nose. It was cold. She decided to stay put, just for a few more minutes, until Kenshin had finished with a conversation that was none of her business.
Rolling onto her side, lay there silently, thinking about next steps. (I need to get back to the library, see if I got a response back to my post on the web board) She’d been making what she hoped were secure, discreet inquiries about how to securely access her finances in a manner that would not put the military or the syndicate on her trail. They thought her dead (with very good reason) and she needed to make sure that it stayed that way.
She sighed, her breath warm beneath the blankets. (Once I have better resources, I will need to find a job.) She’d never applied for a job in her life and couldn’t exactly offer up a resume, not after what she’d done to those poor soldiers. Megumi scrunched her eyes shut, the ache in her heart so painful that she barely bit back a groan as she thought about the Captain Sagara, the officer that she’d desperately tried to contact, to warn when her efforts to reason with the military officers failed.
(He didn’t believe me) She’d been hysterical at the time, so she really couldn't fault the man, having been chased and tackled in a hallway that led to room where the serum was going to be administered. Terror and anger had given her a measure of extra strength and she’d been able to throw off the guards and scramble into the room, catching the officer by the arm. He had seemed kind and had tried to steady her, to calm her. Clutching at him, she’d tried to warn him that the serum wasn’t safe that he was putting his life and the lives of his men at risk by allowing the government to conduct this test.
When soldiers came running in, and tried to pull her from the room, she’d screamed out, hoping that someone…anyone would listen to her frantic pleas. For an instant, she thought she might have gotten through to the captain, until the officer conducting the experiments announced that she was insane, a mental patient, that her warnings were nothing more than the delirious ramblings of a mad woman.
As she was pulled out of the room, she heard Sagara announce that he’d take the first injection, as any good commanding officer would do. He was also the first one she heard scream when things went horribly, horribly wrong.
Megumi covered her face with her hands, shuddering with grief and guilt over what she’d done, over the lives she’d helped take. (I have to make this right…) It was her mantra now, the words she lived…and hopefully would someday die by. (I have to make this right). At the moment, lying in someone else’s bed, wearing someone else’s clothing with no money, no computer, no connections save it the man who was holed up in the Janitor’s closet on a phone call, her task seemed utterly insurmountable.
no subject
So is this what he was going to do? React every time something reminded him of a monster he was? Kenshin had made the choice to kill him. He didn’t have the right to feel guilty after the fact. Salamander had a family. So did the young girls who were kidnapped. Who had nothing to do with him or his gang. Girls who, it was rumored, had everything taken from them, including their own will as drugs were pumped through their system. (And you justify murder with murder.)
He flapped the shirt, probably harder than neccssary, making his shoulder twinge and put it on top of some of the closed boxes until it was light enough to dig out his clothes line. Megumi was awake, hands to her face, wrapped in her own pain. Misery. (Guilt?)
He was not the only one with questions this morning.
“Good morning, Megumi-dono,” he said in a warm voice. He grabbed a can of fuel and refilled the spaceheater so he could turn it on, the warm glow shining on Megumi’s narrow back. He reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder a moment to let her know she was not alone.
“After I finish your clothes I’ll start on breakfast, I will,” he said, straightening. “Though I’m afraid this one’s cooking can’t compare at all to yours.”
no subject
“Mmm,” still half asleep, she sighed contentedly, smiling at the heat and light from a space heater and a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Good Morning, Ken-san,” Thrilled to be waking up warm, she rolled onto her back, and stretched, the vertebrae in her back popping as she moved sleep stiffened muscles. “I hope you slept well, that I didn’t snore,” she murmured pleasantly, still not quite fully awake. “Never slept by anyone before,” she yawned then sat up in the futon, “so I wasn’t quite sure.”
She woke up a little more when Kenshin announced that he was going to do laundry AND fix breakfast. (He’s very good at laundry) Megumi knew this as surely as she knew the radioactive decay rate of cadmium, but that wasn’t the point.
“Oh, no. You shouldn’t have to do anything. Please…let me help – at least let me fix breakfast,” she offered warmly. It was a good morning, a safe and warm beginning to what she was determined to make an even better day. “It’s the least I can do after having had such a good night’s sleep.” She smiled and got out of bed, then set about to making the futon.
“You’re still a little feverish, I think,” she commented as she folded up the spare blanket, “but you’re moving much better than before.” She stifled another yawn, hiding it behind her hand, “How’s your shoulder feeling?”
no subject
"I slept very well, thank you, and my shoulder is much better thanks to your efforts. Ah." He found the cord and pulled it out. He moved to the janitor's closet and stood on the balls of his feet to get the cord on the hooks that had been screwed to either side of the wall. (Why were they so high? This was Japan, wasn't it? Sometimes he wondered....)
He took her pants from the sink and squeezed them out. Hard wearing clothes they were, but a bit worn, still. She would have to get something more to wear since...one look told him his clothes weren't exactly adequate. He sighed and slung the pants over the cord, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder as he spread it out so it would dry better. Then he gathered the shirt. The bloodstains were still there.
"You might have to bleach this if you want to keep it," Kenshin said. Since even in New Meiji, blood stains tended to draw attention.
no subject
She looked over at Kenshin, and her expression brightened a little. “I thought about what you said last night, about finding a place to stay. I’ve been working on it, but being here, meeting you…it’s made me want to try harder.”
She took the folded blanket and put it away then walked over to the area of the room that served as a makeshift kitchen and started rummaging, picking up a carton here and a can there, trying to think of how to use the modest ingredients at hand to fix her friend a wonderful meal. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. “I’ve been working on accessing my bank accounts, and think I’ve found someone who is willing to set up a secure transfer that hopefully won’t attract any undue attention.”
She twisted open a bottle of miso paste. “One we’ve eaten and I know that your shoulder is really feeling better and you’re not trying to be all heroic and manly and whatnot, I’d like to take advantage of your hospitality one final time and borrow a pair of shoes,” she looked down and wiggled her toes at him, “if they fit, and head to a library, or web café and work on getting some sort of meeting set up.”
She said nothing for a while, immersing herself in the simple, peaceful act of preparing food for herself and someone she cared about. Memories of doing this with her brother, of fixing favorite dishes and sitting beside his bedside as he ate filled her mind. (I wonder who’s caring for him now?) A part of her feared that with her gone and presumed dead, that the government would no longer have a reason to keep an invalid alive.
A familiar ache began to form in her heart, a painful little knot of worry and sorrow. She pushed it away, tried very hard to set it aside for another time and stay positive, to smile like her friend did. God knows his life wasn’t easy. She’d been a fugitive for what? Three weeks? He’d been doing this for years. While Megumi knew next to nothing about his life, she knew that simply being a Hitokiri was nothing short of a death sentence and that if caught, he’d end up being quietly eliminated, or worse, yet taken to some nameless military hospital and experimented on, to see why he’d manage to stay sane (and kind, and compassionate) while so many others had not.
And that, she realized, would break her heart.
“When I get things sorted out, and if you want to, I’d love to fix you a real meal, prepare whatever your favorite foods are,” she offered her voice and expression becoming hopeful and vibrant as she thought about being able to offer something back, to be a contributor to this dynamic rather than just a consumer. “It will be spring soon, and I can make us a huge plate of Ohagi to share.” It was an old family recipe, one that she’d loved fixing from the time she’d been a little girl.
The loaded burner, unused to dealing with anything more robust than reheating canned items and the occasional package of noodles began to smoke. Megumi swore under her breath and turned down the temperature a little, lest she cause a fire.
“I think I gave it a stroke, poor thing,” she looked down at the overwhelmed burner in mock pity, then up at the smoke that was accumulating above her head. “I’d best open the door, before we end up huffing our meal, rather than eating it.”
She stood up, then walked over to the door, and opened it so that the smoke could clear.
Backlit by the tiny space heater, Megumi peered out into the dark, cold hallway for a second. (Is someone out there?) She squinted a little, her sharp eyes detecting movement…detecting…
Megumi's eyes went wide with horror as she saw a red dot rapidly moving up stomach, locking on her chest, the blood red laser light the only warning she had that something horrible was about to happen. She gasped, her body starting to shake with a mixture of adrenaline and terror and took a step back, raising her hands out in front of her to show she was unarmed. (It won’t matter..)
“No!” she pleaded, her voice cracking as she threw herself against the door, trying to shut it before it was too late, “Please! Don’t do…” Another light appeared on her chest and she had the split sensation of hearing an electrical crackle before a bolt of searing light and heat tore into her…tore through her.
no subject
Kenshin set the shirt back down and began to search for it, listening as Megumi spoke cheerfully of all the things she would do and need to do. Having plans was a good sign, it was. She was preparing for the future, despite the terrible past she must have suffered. She was a strong woman, indeed she was. And kind, too.
He found the detergent, but kept where he was, crouched over a box so he could watch her prepare food out of the corner of his eye. This was another meal they would share. If he wasn’t careful he would start to get used to it again. Yet… even more strange was knowing it was mostly for his sake that she prepared the food, and it made her happy. It was such a simple action. Why didn’t more people know this?
Those lurking outside certainly didn’t. They were closer now, but it was still too early to tell who they were and what they wanted…if anything. Eventually he would have to go out and confront them, even if it was just to warn them off. The fear tugged at him though. It wasn’t the gut wrenching feeling of a victim. Uncertainty, maybe, but about what?
“Ohagi would be wonderful,” Kenshin said, taking the detergent and flipping the shirt over his arm. “You know, I don’t think I ever had it.” He went into the janitor’s closet, pulling the plug to drain the dirty water and then turning the tap on low for fresh so that he would have an excuse to stand and concentrate on what was going on outside. No doubt about it, they were getting closer, but it was hard to tell whether or not they were after them. It could be completely unrelated and it was better to not alarm either them or Megumi.
The smell of something burning caught his nose and Megumi cursed. She would be able to handle it.
“I’d best open the door, before we end up huffing our meal, rather than eating it,” she said. Ah, that was probably not a good idea.
Kenshin turned off the water and flicked it off his hands, and started to turn.
“Megumi-dono, I—“ And then he felt a burst of pure maniacal glee, razor sharp through the air. He darted into the room just as Megumi was screaming
“Please! Don’t do—“
He slid to the futon, grabbed Kitetsu and a blast rocked the storage room. Kenshin watched Megumi being lifted off her feet blood spraying out from her back and moving in an almost graceful arc before hitting the wall and sliding down, leaving a red trail behind her. It was... She was... but she looked so peaceful.
He faintly heard the sound of shoes on concrete and saw the police enter.
“I think you have something that belongs to us, AMPhead.”
no subject
The tablet.
They had come for the tablet.
They had come for the tablet and Megumi—was—
“Pity huh?” the lean man’s gaze slid to Megumi and Kenshin felt the man’s pleasure spike, could see it in his grip, the dilation of his eyes, the way his grin widened. He had wanted to kill her. Even knowing she was innocent. Just for the pure undiluted pleasure.
Anger filled Kenshin, radiating from his bones, a kind of ancient fury that slipped over him, through him, cold and sharp as a blade. The world sharpened as if he’d taken a hit. Everything fell into stark detail. He could see the cops shift. Hear the twitch of their muscles and the thud of their hearts. They were all calm, arrogant, except for the tiny pinprick of fear near the back. The lean man slowly turned his head back to look at Kenshin, his pulse jumping giddly under his neck. The lean man’s grin twitched as a drug kicked in, his eyes pools of black.
“I hope you paid the stupid—“
“Your life is already forfeit,” Kenshin said, shifting his stance. “As for the rest of you, I’ll return the tablet,” he told the other cops, who were already starting to fumble epi pens from their sleeves. “But if you plan to fight I’ll show you no mercy.”
“Have this for mercy,” the lean man said and Kenshin pivoted before the man had even lifted the rifle, drawing Kitetsu even as he spun to get momentum. The blade came free and he saw the bullet, a black shot before the blade snapped through it, sending the two pieces spinning in different directions and slamming into the wall.
He shifted to the side as another bullet shattered the wall and glared at the police behind the lean man, not bothering to shield his ki. They startled like a line of deer. Froze. Someone yelped. A line of sweat ran down the lean one’s face and he jammed another epi pen in his arm.
“I’m not afraid of you, you bastard!” the lean man screamed, running forward, reaching for a blade at his back. Kenshin cut his head off. Almost unaware of how he did it. The lean man fell to the ground, not even a sliver of knife pulled from the sheath at his back. Blood from his neck soaking into the concrete.
“If you kill like an animal than you deserve to be slaughtered like one,” Kenshin said, flicking the blood from his blade and ducked as the others opened fire.
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“Wait! Wait!” a shorter cop said. The mad cop gave him one glance before shooting him in the face. Kenshin, pushed forward, twisting out of the way of a bullet, using the force of his spin to come back and cut him in half, spine only giving momentary resistance before it severed and he fell.
Four down. One left. Crouched in the door way, crying, his fingers shaking as he held an epi pen over the unbroken skin of his forearm.
“Don’t.” Kenshin grabbed his hand, firmly but gently and the young man startled, a scream bursting from his lips. “You don’t have to be like them,” Kenshin said, looking into the cop’s eyes. “Don’t make a choice that you can’t turn back from.”
The epi pen clattered to the ground and the man pressed a hand to his face letting out a short harsh sob. Kenshin stepped back, satisfied that he wasn't going to do something stupid. A heavy weight started to fall over him as he looked at the room. Soaked in blood. Everything soaked in blood.
And there...in the shadows... He bought his attention back to the lean man, for the moment, until he could breathe, and looked at his hand wrapped around the knife still. And beside it...a phone. Kenshin narrowed his eyes and wondered...
No... His job wasn't done yet. He still had to find out one more thing. He flicked the blood off Kitetsu and sheathed it, crouching to pick up the phone which felt strangely heavy. The young man slumped to the ground, wrapping his arms around his head.
It was disgusting.
All of this waste.
All of this blood.
He looked through the lean man's call list and found the number he was searching for.
no subject
["Battousai."]
Saitou's voice was harsh against his ear and the name made him clench the sakabato. The old anger rose up in his chest and threatened to strangle him.
"Have the Shinsengumi gotten so weak that they need to use drugs to shoot an unarmed woman in the chest?" he said, his voice flat, his words hardly registering to his own ears. There was a slight pause. But only very slight. Enough for Kenshin to hear the television in the background.
["You stole a tablet, one that you should know would be tracked...what did you expect to happen?"]
Tracked! So that was how-- That was how. He should have known and in the end. In the end it hadn't made a damn bit of difference. In the end... only...only one person...no...not one...everyone who was lying-- but later. Later. There were still things that needed to be done.
"Just answer the question." If this was permissible... If all New Meiji police were...
["Moron. You already have your answer. You saw me fight in the diner."]
Not everyone has your honor, Kenshin wanted to say, except it pricked him somehow. Shinsengumi honor was negotiable at best. But-- wait Shinsen-- why was he even--? That was hundreds of years ago.
"Unfortunately I can't trust the rest of the force to share your sensibility."
["You would be wise to be wary, it would seem."] There was a strange sort of breath and Kenshin could imagine him blowing the smoke from his mouth as the cigarette curled between his fingers and filled the air with his presence. As the air wasn't full enough of him. Still, that gave him his answer. It was illegal. Kenshin let out a soft breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
["Were they all using?"] Saitoh said.
"Aa." Kenshin glanced to the young man at the door. "Almost. They were using METAL, or something close to it. It's refined from AMP but a more aggressive strain and longer lasting."
"A greater risk of mental instability, too," he continued flatly, remembering the dialated eyes, the teeth, shooting his comrade in the face as if it was nothing. As if he had just been an irritating fly. "But the high is almost instantaneous..." And dangerous. Even moreso than on the streets. The police could make this tenuous world hell.
"Get it out of your men, Saitoh. Before there's a war." And there would be war. People would only bend so far until they broke. More innocent blood splattered on the concrete. He glanced at the young man again who was looking up at him, a different kind of fear in his eyes. He knew the truth.
"I have someone here who can give you names and details," Kenshin said, meeting the young man's eyes, trying to tell him to be brave. "He chose not to take the drug, but I believe he was coerced."
[Fine.]
Kenshin handed the phone to the young man who hesitated.
"It's your choice," Kenshin said. The man stood, levering himself to his feet and took the phone with a shaking hand. Kenshin tried his best not to hate him as the man left back the way he had come. The phone pressed to his ear.
"He...hello...?" he said, faintly, just before Kenshin shut the door.
no subject
You stole a tablet, one that you should know would be tracked...what did you expect to happen?
Not this. Never this. He hadn't expected... he hadn't expected... He moved his gaze to Megumi.
One hand had fallen to rest on her stomach. The rest of her was a bloody mess, her hair spread against the wall, pale orange with the light of the space heater.
He hadn't expected her.
And she had suffered for his mistake. Who had she left behind? Who had they left behind? How many more phone calls would go unanswered? How many more faces unseen? Endless and endless. Death and blood filled the air.
Kenshin placed Kitetsu against the wall and went over to her. It was strangely silent. Everything was muffled. His own breathing. His own heartbeat. He knelt beside her.
She had come to this world to live. No matter what had happened. She had come here to live. To help others. There are too many killers in this world, Megumi-dono, and not enough doctors.
And even fewer now.
Because of his own carelessness.
How many more will you kill before you're satisfied, Hitokiri Battousai?
He shifted, pressing hands and forehead against the floor.
"I'm sorry, Megumi-dono."
As if that would be enough. As if anything in this world would ever be enough.
no subject
Death...
And they had just been about to eat. He could still smell the faint traces of acrid smoke. Kenshin shook his head and pushed himself upright. He would take her away from here and find some place to bury her. Then he would find anyone she had left behind and let them know...and after that... after that he wasn't sure.
Kenshin shifted closer, pressing one hand to her back to lift her away from the wall and felt...skin. Chills ran down his spine. There was a hole in the shirt, and the stickiness of blood still drying and...skin. He pressed his fingers against it. It seemed firm. How...how was that even possible? And it felt warm. Almost too warm. He rested her gently back against the wall and his heart jumped as he felt a felt a pulse, weak, but as he pressed it was growing stronger.
No one who had lost that much blood should be alive. Should have skin. The bullet must have gone through her so unless--
Recovery. Regen.
Hadn't she said they were both scientific experiments? But this-- to go this far-- To bring someone back from the dead and she was dead. She had to be at some point. Her chest moved, breathing, breath rattling in her lungs. He would think of the why and how of it later.
He had to get her out of here. Kenshin gently lifted her. She was heavier than expected but nothing he couldn't handle. Gently, he moved her to the comforter that was blood splattered but would have to do. He shifted her onto her side so she wouldn't choke on the blood that was threatening to come out of her.
Then he stood, hurried to the janitor's closet to grab her clothes from the clthes line before rolling them up, shoving them in his messenger bag. The tablet gleamed at him and he threw it out, hearing it clatter against the far wall. Kenshin moved quickly, taking the bottles of medicene he'd hidden at the bottom of a clothes box and shoving them in his bag, stopping to fill up one needle and making sure there was no air before jabbing it into his arm. He would need the strength and agility for who knew how long.
Once everything was in his bag, he pulled on a shirt, and his shoes. Then he shifted Megumi onto her back, using the thinner blanket to tie the comforter around her. In another second Kitetsu was in its bag,and against his shoulder. Messenger bag on and swinging at his hip and Megumi... He muttered an apology and gently picked her up so she was hanging opposite Kitetsu and started out the door.
He would have to take the roof exit, probably. The streets were too crowded. This in mind, Kenshin headed for the stairs and began to charge up them, faster and faster as the hit kicked in and filled him with energy. In next to no time he was out in the bright light and sharp cold of a Feburary morning. He was-- South. Next safehouse was west. This way. Good jumping for a while.
He raced to the end of the roof, faster and faster, keeping in mind the extra weight, hid the edge of the roof and pushed off, flying, landing solidly, slipping a little but he kept going. As soon as she was safe. As soon as she was well. Then he would think. For right now, all that mattered was to run.
no subject
She’d been four the first time it had happened. She’ll fallen while running down some stairs, the type of tumble that any child will experience in the course of growing up, resulting in scuffed palms, and bleeding knees and a cut on her chin that would require stitches, lest a scar mar such a pretty face.
Humpty-dumpty had a great fall…
For once, her father had noticed her. She’d been so hopeful, as he carefully examined her knees and hands and touched (actually touched her!) her chin as the damage faded beneath his watchful black eyes. When he reached out to her and took her into his arms, she’d rejoiced, her tears drying, snuggling against his chest, her hands clutching the white lab coat he was wearing as he climbed up the long, winding stairs to the third floor of her home.
All the Kings Horses…and all the Kings Men…
She’d not known his intentions until he pulled her away from him, holding her by one arm and leaned over the balustrade, holding his white faced daughter out in front of him, his expression never deviating from that of detached scientific curiosity as he checked her relative position above the marble floor down below, adjusted his aim a little and then dropped her.
Couldn’t put Humpty together again
Megumi opened her eyes. She was dead. Dying. Dreaming.
She blinked. She was flying, soaring above a dirty city illuminated by early morning sunlight.
There were sounds registering, a gurgling wet exhalation, as blood filled lungs tried to provide oxygen to a system that had been starved of it for several minutes. Someone else took breath, exhaled sharply, then inhaled again, the rhythm hard and fast with exertion.
Taste came next, followed shortly by the ability to smell. There was blood in her mouth, pouring from her nose. Megumi tried to swallow, the coppery taste was on her tongue and caked on her teeth, making her sick.
Blood….everywhere. She could smell it, could detect charred clothing where an energy round had blown through her sternum and out of her spine before lodging 12 inches into a concrete wall. Another scent, the smell of a man, the sweat of a friend. She knew this scent and felt strangely relieved.
Relief fled as the final sense began to emerge, as blown apart nerve inductors began to fire normally, sending and relaying signals from the brain, out to her regenerating body and then back again. Megumi shuddered, then stiffened as bones and in her chest and blown out back began to knit together, creating an audible grinding hiss deep inside her body. When the man carrying her landed, and then sprung up as if the laws of gravity meant for everyone but him, the jarring motion caused her to cry out, and then cough violently as blood, muscle and tiny bone fragments were brought up from deep in her lungs.
“Stop,” she tried to say, but her mouth was full of blood. Unable to tell if she was moving faster or slower, Megumi moaned and coughed again, and then began to choke, her shuddering body convulsing with agony as full regeneration began to occur.
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He could feel Megumi beginning to stir. He hadn't been attentive enough to her. They were ten, fifteen minutes away at this speed. If he could just get there. He sucked in a sharp breath and picked up his pace. Close to the roof. It would be up, a short distance, and over and if he could just--
And then Megumi said something, and began to twitch and writhe, blood burbling in her mouth that he could hear-- smell. He stopped as fast as he could, skidding to the near edge of the roof. There was a fire escape just below, metal black and stark against the pale red of the building. He jumped down lightly, gently setting Megumi against the steps and ready to cushion the back of her head should she bang it into the metal.
"It will be all right, it will," he said through short panting breaths. "Do...do you need anything?" Could she even answer?
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On her side, with her face pressing against the cold black metal of the fire escape, she coughed and coughed, watching as thick ropes of phlegm and blood hit metal, slid down and fell down…down…dissipating slightly before hitting the street far below.
She watched the blood, her blood falling, and was irrationally envious, wanting nothing more than to throw herself off the stairs and experience a similar rapid descent. There would be a second of fear, an instant of pain as her body collided with asphalt and concrete and then….peace.
Another round of coughing finally cleared her throat. She gasped as cold morning air filled lungs that were still healing, moved over nerves that were raw and exposed. She screamed raggedly, and tried to curl up into a ball on the steps as her body mindlessly tried to rebuilt itself. Chest heaving, she screamed again as she felt broken ribs reform and milky cartilage binding bone and muscle together.
“Not again,” she sobbed, rolling to her stomach as her damaged spine began to re-fuse, causing her legs to twitch and jerk like a poorly used marionette, “Not again!”
She could feel air on her partially exposed back, the blood soaked t-shirt sporting an exit would that was six inches in circumference. A wave of regeneration hit, as damaged internal systems became whole and hale.
She convulsed, and rather than shaming herself more than she already had, she gripped the stair well, her bloody fingers sinking into the black mesh pattern on the landing as if it was made of silk rather than oxidized steel.
She was on fire. What few fat reserves she still carried within her were gone, already used by her body for fuel. Voraciously hungry, her body began to consume muscle groups next. Cramping horribly, she clawed at the stairs as her thighs, calves, buttocks and back muscles writhed beneath freshly formed skin, the potential energy in the iron rich muscles turning into kinetic fuel.
Slender hands became claw-like, skin became sallow, then nearly became translucent in places as one system was cannibalized by another, thereby triggering another vicious cycle of regeneration. Megumi lost track of time, as her body, already thin and weak after nearly a week without a full meal, became emaciated, her features wraithlike rather than womanly as the process peaked, then slowly began to slow down.
Sharp, agonized shrieks turned into sobs…and then became whimpers as the pain became more bearable, while the knowledge that she’d come back again against her will, and that someone had been present to see such a horrible spectacle increased.
And then it was done.
She shuddered once, twice and then was still, save for the shaking of her shoulders as she covered her face with her bloody hands and cried.
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(It's not something you can kill, is it?)
He swallowed, and swallowed again as the bile rose in his throat but kept himself a solid presence, looking away just enough so he wasn't gawking at her but there in case...in case she needed something. Windows were opening down the street. People were watching. The police would be called.
A thin cold edge of fear rose up in his chest and he brushed it away. Whatever happened, he would take care of it. Fear would only eat at him and right now, Megumi needed all the help he could give. Which was pathetically little.
Finally, she shuddered and he thought for a moment she was dead but those thin hands covered her face and she was crying. Crying for the pain of it.
(This is torture caused by your carelessness.) He should be there, not her.
Kenshin took a deep breath and, seeing that she had settled for the moment, opened his messenger bag and pulled out a small box of protein bars and a bottle of luke warm water. There wasn't much but she needed something.
"You need to try to eat if you can," he said, opening one of the packages for her. "And drink, too. There is more food where we're going but for right now you should keep your strength up, that you should."
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You need to try to eat if you can. Megumi shook her head. The only thing she wanted to do right now was to die…and preferably stay dead. She heard a package crinkling.
And drink, too. There is more food where we're going but for right now you should keep your strength up, that you should.
“You’re not going to give up on me, are you?” she said dully, her tone suggesting that she wished he would. She moved her hands away from the twisted, torn stair railing, casually glancing at her fingers as she sat up, then turned to look over at the man who had somehow gotten her out of the storage unit.
A cadaverous face peered up at him from beneath blood matted hair. Eyes once warm, were dull, despite being teary and sunken in. She looked at Kenshin. He was covered in blood, panting from exertion, and holding out a protein bar and what appeared to be water.
Feeling like an aching automaton, Megumi reached out, took the bar and shoved half of it into her mouth, ignoring the coppery taste of blood on her tongue and lips. She already felt ravenous and would for a few more hours while her body finished regenerating.
She swallowed, then took another bite, and then took the water and drank it down, gagging at the taste of blood mixing with lukewarm water. She could still feel her body shifting, repairing, but it was slow, and uncomfortable rather than agonizing. She was, much to her disappointment, going to once again, survive.
“I don’t remember what happened,” She said, her voice hoarse from screaming.
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"That I will not, Megumi-dono. In death you lose your horrors, yes, but you lose the chance for the good of life in aswell." He handed the bar out to her. "And you do deserve the good in life, indeed you do, because no matter what else, you are a good woman."
He would tell her what happened, of course, but later, when she was settled. When they were safe. He heard the sound of a siren in the distance and stood, looking around, trying to see it, trying to gauge where it was coming from. There were too many sirens here. Too much trouble. They couldn't stay.
"When you are well enough we'll have to move. This place is too exposed and I think capture would be bad for the both of us."
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Megumi took the bar that was offered, and gave the man a dreadful smile, her sunken in cheeks casting deep hollows on either side of her face.
"I deserve that I have dealt out to others, Ken-san," there was no pity, no softness in her voice. "Call this what you will, whether it be penance, atonement, or kharma," Nakedly honest, she continued to speak in a rapsty voice, suffering having stripped her of all pretenses,"the results are...and should be the same."
She stopped talking then, and ate the second bar, then stood up slowly, as if in a daze, "I would not have you captured for the world. The military thinks me dead and I would like it to stay that way, for as long as I can. I am ready to go, if you are."
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"Whatever hurt you may have caused, you cannot undo it by wishing pain or death upon yourself. Pain and death only begets more pain and death. In order to atone you must move beyond yourself and find what is in you that is good and worth living for. Worth fighting for. Otherwise there will be nothing for you." He spoke gently, but firmly.
He walked them back up to the roof edge so that he would have a clear jumping distance and gently tugged Megumi's arms around his neck before taking her legs. She was too tall, she was. (Or he was too short.)
"You'll have to hold on tightly. I might have to let you go for balance but I will try not to." He walked to the opposite side of the roof, bending so that her feet would not scrape the ground. Different weight. Could he adjust for it? Yes. She was lighter this time. Very much so. But still alive and that could be taken care of.
"Hold on," he said, and pushed forward as fast as he could building up speed, the lip of the roof and pushing against the rail of the fire escape which bent and sent him flying forward as he intended. A roof below, landing hard and kept on running, faster and faster, until the world blurred and his heart hammered in his ears.
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(There is nothing for me) Megumi replied in her mind, too weary and resigned to spare the energy for an argument. She did as he bid her, wrapping her stick thin arms around him, and then rested her bloody head against the crook of his neck as he lifted her.
“I’m sorry, Ken-san,” she whispered, strands of his crimson hair getting caught in her mouth. She wasn’t sure if she’d been the catalyst for whatever had befallen them in the storage room, and frankly didn’t care. Not now.
“Hold on,” he warned her. She nodded and tightened her grip. Then he was off, the muscles in his arms and legs tensing like steel springs, as he leapt. She closed her eyes as they went into free fall, feeling gravity pulling. He landed, ran and then leaped again. And again. And again.
The city was waking up, the weak winter sun illuminating the world beneath it. Kenshin was in mid-leap, soaring like one never earthbound between tar papered rooftops and tin ledges. His heart was racing, beating out a brilliant, brutal staccato that would have killed a normal human being. She adjusted her grip on him, her arms sliding over slick, exposed, sweat covered skin.
Unbidden, she looked up at him, at his eyes fixed on an unknown horizon then moved past him to look up at the sky. It was clear, blue and infinitely high. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. Megumi sighed and closed her eyes again as they landed.
He was panting now, each inhalation and exhalation sounding torturous.
“Kenshin. Stop,” she bid him quietly as they landed on a rather nondescript roof. Megumi looked around and saw nothing, save for a rather sad looking little shack tucked away behind a faded, peeling billboard. She knew he’d argue, but she was a doctor and could tell that he was nearing terminal exhaustion.
“Please, you need to stop and rest,” Megumi started to remove her arms from around his neck, determined to force the issue if needed.
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"A...almost th...there," he said between breaths. The safe house seemed so far away, even though it was only a few steps. He pushed himself forward, sweat trailing itching and cold down his face...and soon they were there. The padlock unbroken. The window also unbroken, nor had the seal inside been jarred.
"C...can you stand?" he asked,and when Megumi nodded, he set her down and fumbled with trembling cold hands for his messenger bag. Flipping it open he searched with cold clumsy fingers for the key, bracing his shoulder against the wall so he wouldn't fall over.
He found the key after a short moment and it took him a few tries to fit it into the lock because his hands were trembling too much. Finally, though, he managed and pushed open the door. It was a small safe house. But his favorite. Well insulated from the wind on one side, it was dark and warm. A nest of blankets made up the middle and the boxes were stacked around like a tiny cave. There was even a rice cooker that he'd managed to get working.
He beckoned for Megumi to go first and waited until she had done so to make a brief glance of the area before slipping inside himself. Shutting the door. Bolting it, and then sliding down it to sit on the floor, Kitetsu digging into his back but he didn't care.
That...had been...entirely too long of a run.
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Leaving Kenshin where he was crouching on the floor, she stumbled over to some bottled water. It was cool, a few degrees less than room temperature. She took several bottles in her arms and carried them over to where the man was sitting, trying to catch his breath.
“Here,” she fumbled with the lid to one of the bottles, but offered it to the man, trying to help, knowing that she was responsible for his current state. “start drinking as many of these as you can,” Crouched down, she unscrewed another bottle, setting it beside the first.
“I’ll…I’ll start fixing something to eat,” biting down on her lower lip, she hesitated, then reached over and hesitantly pushed the sweaty bangs out of her friend’s eyes. He was so tired, shaking, so worn out. “You never got breakfast. I never finished it. Or did I?' She glanced down at her chest and the singed, bloody hole in the middle of it, then looked back up at her friend, "There was smoke...a light. It was red...I..I…can’t remember,” unaware that she was rambling; she touched his sweaty cheek with an unsteady hand. He was feverish. Hurting.
“Did you…did they…are you hurt?” she whispered raggedly, looking at the blood on his shirt, his pants, the gore in his hair…on his face.
She groaned, and tried to wipe some off of his chin. She was shaking. So was he. There was so much blood on him. On her. They both reeked of death and dying.
“I’m sorry…” she bent her head, so embarrassed that he’d seen her like this, that she’d put him in danger after he’d been so kind. “…so sorry, Ken-san.”
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"It was this one's fault, Megumi-dono," he said, looking into her eyes. "This one foolishly stole a police tablet which they tracked. The moment you opened the door, the lead man shot you." And here he looked away to spare her the hardening of his gaze as the old anger shuddered in him as he remembered. "Just for the pure pleasure of the kill."
But he had no right to indulge in anger right now. Or ever. He had taken more lives. He had destroyed more families. He had nearly destroyed her. He bowed to her deeply, his hands on the floor.
"This one was the cause of your pain and suffering, Megumi-dono. My carelessness was unforgivable and this one cannot apologize enough for what he's done to you."
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She tried to recall something, anything that would give her a desperately needed measure of context. And then she received it.
The lead man shot you…Just for the pure pleasure of the kill… Kenshin looked away, her expression becoming hard and predatory.
And then the knucklehead bowed, trying to apologize.
“Don’t…” she pled, tugging on his sweat soaked t-shirt, trying to get him to sit up. “…please, you didn’t know, I was the one who barged in,” Megumi gave up on tugging and embraced him awkwardly, trying not to reopen the wound in his poor shoulder. Dazed, hurting, she simply held him, too dehydrated to even properly weep over how profoundly she’d fucked things up.
“You are my friend,” in the end it was the only thing she could say. In the end, for her, it was the only thing that mattered. “and the only thing you have done is treat me with kindness and care.”
Megumi paused, and pulled away a little, trying to provide Kenshin with the same context she’d been given only moments before. “I have died many times, Ken-san, and never by my own hand,” she confessed, her worn out voice carrying in the little nest; the haven that he’d carried her to. “I’ve always awoken alone and discarded, my body cast into a ditch, or a river, or a refrigerated room on some military base. It is a very lonely experience.”
She sighed and covered one of his hands with her own. Her hands were still skeletal, but the skin was no longer nearly translucent. “You didn’t need to take me with you, carry me from that storage room; away from the man you said who killed for pleasure. You were here, when I woke up, and stayed by me when no one else has ever bothered.”
Megumi gave his hand a shaky little squeeze. “So, get yourself into that nest you made.” She motioned towards the blankets. “You’re not going to be able to properly regenerate without some more water, some more food…and lots of sleep.”
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He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. What use was he if he could only kill? What use was he if he couldn't get through to her? How important she was? How good? To treat herself so lightly... Her hand touched his, giving comfort to one who did not need it. Couldn't accept it as things were now.
The weight of it pressed him down, filled his lungs. His arms trembled and he wanted to grab her shoulders and make her understand. But she would have to learn that on her own time. She would have to find her own way.
"You are my friend, Megumi-dono. I would have carried you anywhere," he said, trying not to sound as weary as he felt. He would let her take care of things since she wished to and she was right. He needed to regenerate before leaving again. Kenshin pulled off his shoes, setting them aside, before moving himself and katana to the blankets, wrapping a few warm ones around his shoulder and leaning against the stack of boxes that were there for that purpose.
"In any case, I'm glad you're alive," he said, managing a small smile. "I would have missed you otherwise, indeed I would."
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You are my friend, Megumi-dono. I would have carried you anywhere…
And then he said that he was glad she was alive, that she was a person who was worthy of being missed.
Megumi’s wan face became radiant, despite the heavy toll that regeneration had taken upon her delicate features. Not knowing what to say, she wisely said nothing, but gave the slender man a little smile, then turned her attention to preparing the long delayed first meal of the day.
There was a little rice cooker in Ken-san’s nest (this is what she was calling the little shack) into which she added proper ratios of rice and bottled water. While the rice steamed, she found some canned foot that while not hot, would provide protein to repair damaged muscles.
Eventually, the meal was ready. Shaking with exhaustion, Megumi carried it over to where Kenshin was resting, swathed in body warmed blankets. “Better late than never?” she offered him a plate as she sat down beside him.
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He watched her prepare the meal, letting the silence fill the room. He shifted, trying to get comfortable, and realized the messenger bag was around his shoulders still. Kenshin took it off and took out Megumi's rolled clothes, placing them on a stack of boxes behind him for now. Then, on impulse, he pulled out his laptop. It was still in good condition despite being bumped around everywhere and fortunately a strong signal coming from the building below meant he could check a few things.
What to check, though? The news feeds? More bad news. More confusing questions. It had been a long hard day and even though he should think about things, he needed a distraction, if only for a moment. He set the laptop on the ground as Megumi came over and accepted the food from her with a smile.
"Ah, thank you. It smells delicious." Though he set the plate down for a moment so he could pull something up.
"Have you ever seen Variety Show? It's mostly human interest stories and comedy sketches, nothing too deep but it can be pretty funny, that it can," he said, opening the site.
"Would you like to watch with me?"
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He was right, Kenshin was, the show was pretty funny. Megumi sat beside him, eating in comfortable silence as a segment aired about a family and an adventurous, impish little boy. Megumi finished her rice, then set the plate to the side of where she was sitting, and glanced over at Kenshin. Violet eyes fixed on the screen, he was smiling as the segment played out with hugs and laughs, his expression peaceful…content….happy.
Megumi looked away after a second, but kept that smile with her…
A comedian was up next. Megumi didn’t get half the jokes, and wondered what Kenshin thought about the subject matter.
The final segment was the one she’d been waiting for. It was a musical number, performed with a guitar and a piano. It was an old song, one that had been written in the twentieth century by a band from Ireland, an island that in the aftermath of the Great War, along with most of the European continent, had been decimated, its people and the haunting music that was its legacy scattered like seeds on the wind.
She listened carefully, closing her eyes as the first measures of music began to play.
You say, you want diamonds on a ring of gold. You say, you want your story to remain untold…But all the promises we made…from the cradle to the grave…When all I want is you…
Unaware, she began to sign along, quietly, her voice barely audible at first. The second verse began, and she dropped down a third of an octave, adding a sweet harmonic line to the plaintive melody. You say, you’ll give me eyes in a world of blindness, a river in a time of dryness, a harbor in the tempest…
But all the promises we made…from the cradle to the grave…When all I want is you…
She sang, and was for the first time in a very long time...simply happy.
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He ate dutifully as he watched the comedian, glad to hear the audience laugh even if he didn't understand most of the jokes. The comedian herself seemed like a nice person if a little perplexed by the world.
He had finished eating by the time the song began to play, from a country he'd only distantly heard of in, English he guessed. That was what they spoke in the west, wasn't it? He felt Megumi relax, watched out of the corner of his eye as her own eyes closed, her face relaxed, the corners of her mouth lifting just slightly. She was enchanted. He'd never known she liked music.
And then she began to sing, soft at first and then...doing something strange with her voice so that it matched the melody somehow, even though it seemed that it shouldn't. He listened to her sing, though he couldn't understand the words, and watched her get lost in the music as if there was nothing else existed for her.
He waited until the last faint strains of the music had faded and let the silence fill the space, like an aftertaste of a really good chocolate macchiato.
"Megumi-dono has a beautiful voice, she does," Kenshin said. Paused to cover his mouth as he yawned before shifting into a more comfortable spot. "Perhaps she will sing again some day." He would like to hear it.
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"But I love playing the piano most of all," She shyly confided to the red haired man sitting beside her. "Perhaps someday...I'll be able to play for you."
She sighed, allowing the beginnings of a goal...a new goal...to form in the back of her mind.
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Kenshin finished his meal and watched the show. Another family piece. Triplets born in northern Kyushuu. A tired but happy mother. A proud father. The host was talking about it quiet tones, as if he didn't want to wake the baby.
Running his hand over a rounded belly. A bright nervous smile, like the sun was coming out. A honest face looking up into his.
"Kenshin."
"Mm?" Kenshin wrenched his eyes open and realized Megumi hadn't spoken. The story had shifted to...something about...whales... He blinked. Once. Twice.
And she smiled at him, the warm spring breezes moving the strands of black hair against her neck. A chime sounding somewhere. He rested his head on her shoulder, content in the breeze and the sunlight that filled him from the inside out.
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Megumi watched intently as historical footage of extinct whales played out on the laptop, accompanied by hopeful and triumphant background music. It was amazing to think that the oceans had once hosted life on such a beautiful, brilliant scale. (They will return to a vastly altered sea scape…) Global warming and war had seen to that, forever altering the coasts as low lying areas sank beneath the waves, sending millions scrambling for higher ground.
The Variety Show ended.
Carefully, Megumi took the laptop from Kenshin’s unresisting hands and closed out the viewing application. She looked at his desktop picture for a minute. It was a beautiful picture of a green field, animated grass rippling softly like waves, a tree, crowned in leaves that moved as the wind moved across the landscape and a sky that was perfectly blue, no clouds in sight. It was a peaceful image and Megumi wondered if there really was a place in the world that was half so pretty.
She closed the laptop and gently set it down atop one of the many boxes that surrounded the little nest of blankets, then carefully…cautiously…shifted a little to the side, so that Kenshin wasn’t leaning at so awkward an angle (how does he sleep sitting up?) she wondered. He shifted a little in sleep, so that she bore a little more of his weight and the boxes a little less.
Megumi sat there for a several minutes, not wanting to do anything to wake him from the healing sleep that he do desperately needed after carrying her away from the storage room. She sat, her muscles tensing then relaxing in time with his breathing, and then shifted a little more, reaching for and finding the blanket (still warm with body heat) that had fallen from his slender shoulders. Gently, she covered him as best she was able, and after hesitating for a moment, covered herself as well. She was also nearly undone with weariness, her body entering the final stages of regeneration, and needed the restorative benefits that only came with deep sleep.
His head was warm against her shoulder, the morning sun shining through the narrow cracks in the shack, illuminating the inside of their shelter with little slits of light. He smelled of dried blood and sweat and other things, scents that whispered of great violence and bloodshed, scents that almost but not quite concealed the clean smell of his skin, coupled with the merest hint of coffee.
Megumi sighed and closed her eyes. It was so warm, so peaceful in this little place, this safe nest of Ken-san’s making. She sighed again, feeling sleep come upon her and shifted one last time, so she could turn her head, just a little, and press her lips softly against his bang covered forehead before she too fell into slumber.
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Except...it wasn't Shishou. Kenshin started to remember this as he swam to consciousness from the deep soft pool of dark. It was...a woman. Who...? Light pressed red against his eye lids and he opened them to strands of black hair, a nest of blankets, a rice cooker, boxes. His heart kicked. Was it--
No... No it was Megumi. Megumi. Kenshin carefully straightened, rubbing his neck and looking at her, peacefully asleep. Still a little thin but looking better. (He remembered the skin pulling back from her bones) Except for the hole in her shirt, he wouldn't have any clue she'd been shot. (Shattered. Her blood a crimson river on the wall) But she was alright now, she was. Though what she was was an entirely different matter all together. He checked her pulse lightly to make sure and found it going strong and steady.
He stood to get some movement back into his legs and tucked the blanket around her shoulders. What to do now was the bigger question. She couldn't come with him. It was too dangerous. Even if she couldn't die... (and obviously you can't protect her) there were worse things than death.
Well she would be safe enough here until she got her money or whatever it was she intended to do. He couldn't sense anyone around and it was unlikely the police would even look for him here. Or want to go to this neighborhood either. (Unless they were METAL crazed)
Still, it would be bad to leave while she was still asleep and she looked hungry, she did, so Kenshin set about making some dinner. Onigiri was simple enough but he had plenty of rice and at least it was filling.
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“Hi,” she murmured as she rolled her shoulders, trying to work out stiff (new) muscles. She was very new to this business of waking up with someone and wasn’t entirely sure if small talk was a prerequisite.
Kenshin was making rice balls. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her of the sound it had made when she hesitantly crossed the threshold of the storage unit. (Was that only last night?) she wondered as she watched his hands (they were pretty hands, too pretty almost for a man to possess) shape and squeeze rice into perfect little round masses. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
Shifting in the makeshift bed, Megumi set the blanket aside, grimacing when she realized some of the blood on her skin (or hair) had come off, leaving flakes of dried copper on the bedding. She would have to wash the blanket before she slept in it again.
“How are you feeling?” she hazarded as she pulled her t-shirt into a position where the hole didn’t expose more than a pale expanse of her sternum, tucked her hair behind her ears and stood up, not wanting to sit like a lump on a log (or a twitterbrained bird in a nest) while her friend prepared food. This food was also important; the carbohydrates would replenish lost body reserves of fuel, further facilitating final healing.
“Um, is there something that I can help with?” she padded over to where he was crouching and leaned over a little, watching him shape rice balls with a surprising degree of efficiency.
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"Hi," she said, in a sort of soft, awkward way that reminded him of...of...of what exactly? Something pleasant and warm (and a small hand on the pillow). He pressed the strange mental images away and sat back for a moment to count the rice balls that he had. Five. Better make it eight, though he wasn't sure how much Megumi would eat, it was better to make too much than to make too little.
"This one is just fine, he is, thanks to you," Kenshin said lightly. "I am almost done here, but if you like you can get the water. There are a few bottles getting chilled on the window." He started to make another rice ball, giving it a nice filling of tuna before patting the heated rice around it.
"I've also hung your clothes, I have," he said. "And they are mostly dry by now, I should think."
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The sun was setting, quickly sliding down behind the jagged silhouette of the city. Mesmerized at the sight of the day dying, she put one hand hesitantly on the glass, the heat of her fingers creating ghostly rims of mist on the cold surface.
Slowly, the sun fell further past the artificial horizon, changing in hue from a blinding white-yellow, to a cooler orange, and then to a shade of red that was breathtaking, beautiful, superimposing a memory of fading light itself on the back of her optical nerves.
She leaned forward a little as if her force of will was enough to keep the night at bay, tracking the descent, her eyes widening in wonder as the life bringing light, now little more than a waning disc of red, glowing warmth, slid inexorably down, flared corona like for an instant, and then was gone, leaving the sky barren.
"It's gone," she whispered, more to herself than anyone. She'd never stopped to watch the sun set (or rise for that matter)a realization that made her wonder at the life she'd led, at the priorities she'd once held so dear.
"And the temperatures are dropping," she commented, pulling her fingers away from the frosty glass. "I will be, I think, glad when spring comes."
She lingered at the pane for a second more, then turned from it, carrying the bottles of chilled water to where Kenshin was sitting. She knelt beside him and, still feeling that she'd not been very useful in the preparation, promised herself that she'd clean up after they'd eaten this meal.
"Thank you for...washing my clothes, for the food," she motioned at the food and then perhaps at the room that they were sitting so snugly in, "for everything. I appreciate your kindness, Ken-san, more than I can say.:
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"There are some with tuna" He pointed to the ones on the right. "And some without. This one wasn't sure which Megumi-dono preferred. And there's really no need to thank me. It was my pleasure, indeed it was."
He picked up the cold water and took a good drink before taking a rice ball between his hands. Ah, simple pleasures. For just a moment, it was perfect, with the deepening night just outside the window.
"Megumi-dono should try to get to Ueno Park, she should, in April. The cherry blossoms are beautiful even in New Meiji." Even though they were dying when they fell, it had always reminded him of a life well lived, the beautiful end to a beautiful life that would be renewed the next April and the next, so long as the trees stood.
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She concentrated on the memory, wondering if it was real or imagined. She had memories of walking beneath trees laden with softly fragrant blossoms, the sun and sky dappling amid the snow white petals. (I went with my friends. On a picnic. The trees were still young, but so beautiful...)
She bit delicately into the warm ball, inhaling as the deliciously hot rice came in contact with her tongue. (Someone was missing, that day we ate and laughed beneath the growing branches) She chewed thoughtfully (but he came back...after a long journey). She recalled walking with this person, the one who returned beneath the same trees not once, but many times.
She smiled faintly and took another bite.
"Would you ever want to go and see the blossoms with me, Ken-san?" Hesitantly she looked over at him, clutching at her half-eaten rice ball like her life depended on it. "Is that something...something that friends would do?"
(ooc: Ueno Park was established in 1873 on lands formerly belonging to the temple of Kan'ei-ji in Tokyo.)
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"I see a lot of friends there when I go, so I'm sure it's usual. But I would go with you even if it were not." Because that kind of thing should be enjoyed with others. He remembered it faintly. Always faintly. Always warmly. Like a child with tiny hands reaching for whatever blossom he could grasp. Laughing. An old friend returning. He finished his onigiri and picked up another.
"We should go every year, we should. Make it a tradition." A promise. This one will live to see it and so will you.
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"Traditions are good," she agreed, reaching for another ball (this time without the tuna). "They give you something wonderful to look forward to." She paused, her fingers hovering, her expression becoming soft and thoughtful.
"Are we supposed to shake on it? This tradition we have made?" She held her hand out, mirroring her actions from the night before when she offered to heal him in exchange for food and a place where she wasn't in danger of freezing over and over again. "I want to do this right, you know."
She tilted her head and looked carefully at her friend, hoping that he could see, or sense, how terribly important this was to her. "I want to do right by you, as well, Ken-san."
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"But can make a promise this way," he said, reaching out to hook her pinky in his and hold it tight. "These promises are even more binding, they are. And serious." He looked into her eyes. Wanting her to hold on. Wanting her to work to thrive even though everything in the world was against her. Wanting her most of all to know she was not completely alone. If nothing else, she was never that.
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"I promise you, that I'll find you in the spring. In Ueno Park. When the Sakura are blooming."
She paused, then added quietly. "No matter what. I'll be there. You have my word."
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"In the meantime." He handed the journal to her. "I have my number in here, and email address, so you can contact me anytime, that you can. And look." He moved the blankets aside to show her the trap door which lead to the steps and down into the heart of the building.
"You can get down this way, you can. You have to take the elevator. It goes down without a key but not up, I'm afraid. But you should have plenty of food here for a while at least, until you recover. And when you do leave, only go when the sun is well up. This is a dangerous neighborhood, it is, and your life is not the only thing at risk here."
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Still kneeling, the rice balls and water forgotten, Megumi took the journal from Kenshin, her thin face unreadable. She looked up at him. Her chest heaved. He was falling into shadow as waning light outside was overtaken by impending darkness. She managed a nod, and drew the journal to her chest as she numbly watched him show her where a trap door waited to take her from this place, outside again.
(He’s leaving)
She’d known this would happen, just not this way. “This is your home. I should be the one going away.” She tried to point out, but it was hard to talk suddenly. “This wasn’t part of the deal.”
(He’s leaving)
Her chest heaved again, as if her barely healed heart was trying to claw its way out of her body. Eyes welling up, Megumi looked down, suddenly, hiding her face in a fall of matted hair, not wanting him to see what she was feeling. Panic. Fear. The sun was slipping down. She was going to be alone again.
A sob worked its way up her throat. She covered her mouth with one shaky hand and refused to let it out. (Not alone. Not anymore) She had a friend, where before she had no one. There was a tradition to look forward to, a promise to keep. It was a start. She looked down at her pinky. She swallowed back her tears, or at least tried to and was almost successful.
Megumi wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and forced herself to stand up. “I’ll keep you posted, then, on how things….” Her bottom lip trembled. She bit down on it. “...things end up. I don’t have an email address yet, but that can and will be remedied.” This was hard. Dear God, it was so hard.
Megumi took a step towards where he was standing. “Thank you. For being my friend, For everything,” her voice cracked. She forced herself to smile and nod, as if her warm, safe world of one day was not falling apart. “I’ll see you then? Come Springtime?”
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Maybe she did understand then, or at least, was letting him go. No matter how much it had to hurt. But she wasn't alone and she wouldn't be. He knew she wouldn't. Somehow out there, she would find herself. (Or at least that's what you tell yourself, isn't it? Trying to justify everything, aren't you?Coward.)
Maybe he was, but he would not lure her enemies to her. He would not see her die again. He would not see her taken. He would not see her suffer. Not if he could somehow prevent it. Kenshin pulled on his hoody and smiled at her, as gently as he could.
"Aa, Springtime at the latest, but you can always call me, that you can. There will be other times to meet. This is not the last." He fixed his messenger bag across his shoulder, taking a brief glance to see if everything was in there, and then strapped Kitetsu to his back.
It didn't feel right, somehow, just walking out. (Too much like that other time. Like...that other time...) Kenshin took two quick steps forward and hugged her tightly.
"It will be all right," he murmured. "That it will."
And he let her go and turned, out the door and a hit in his arm let him run, let his feet fly. He hit the edge of the roof and jumped, between street and stars, bounding off the edge of one roof before scrambling up the side of another, as fast as he could, aware of Megumi getting further and further away.
Keep safe, Megumi-dono he thought, and jumped again, falling in a graceful arc until he hit the lower roof at a run.